


the remedy for love

by less_than_improbable



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: BAMF John, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, John dating Mary, John is understanding, M/M, Mary is understanding, Sherlock is John's ex, letting go, only a hint of Mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 17:21:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/less_than_improbable/pseuds/less_than_improbable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's most crucial date with Mary was turning out to be a disaster. It was made even more chaotic with the appearance of his ex, Sherlock Holmes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the remedy for love

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone! This is just a small break from "then we collide". I wrote this one whilst bored. This has been beta-ed by Rhiannon, or imogenfere. Thank you so much! I know this prompt is very common, but I could not resist the thought of having that awkward situation and angst. Please enjoy this small piece of angst and fluff from yours truly.
> 
> The title is from Henry David Thoreau. "There is no remedy for love but to love more."
> 
> Disclaimer: Kudos to Mark Gatiss, Steven Moffat, and of course, ACD for making Sherlock. I do not own anything except the storyline.

If John hadn’t chosen this goddamn restaurant, Fate wouldn’t have ruined his date any further.

 

Everything was perfect for today. The car he borrowed from Anthony was clean and filled, his light blue button-up was ironed, and the reservations he made were excellent; he got seats near the window, perfect for appreciating the totality of the London night.

 

Then, it suddenly became _so_ imperfect.

 

Anthony’s mother suddenly had an emergency, so Anthony had to rush to Bristol. His shirt’s loose hem got caught on a random nail on Mary’s door as he went to get her. His reservations were disregarded because of a shoot-out that had happened that morning prior to his date. The restaurant, sadly, was closed.

 

John ended up using a bus with Mary to Angelo’s in a blue jumper. Angelo’s was actually his last resort, but there weren’t any other fancy restaurants who would take an immediate reservation. He had hoped the night wouldn’t get any worse with the appearance of his ex. Unfortunately, this restaurant was the one that he frequented with his ex, and he couldn’t afford him suddenly showing up here and ruining his night with Mary.

 

In actuality, John was pretty sure he had already violated the code of ethics for courtship.

 

So, they went inside the restaurant (with Angelo giving him the dirty eye) and had a nice chat about the warm atmosphere the restaurant provided and their work. John loved how candid he could be with Mary. She was not grossed out with his habits and tastes in general. He could just be himself with her, and she would not even take it against him. She loved the real John.

 

When their assigned waiter came, all hell broke loose.

 

Their waiter was no other than his sultry ex, Sherlock Holmes, with all his ragged glory.

 

He hadn’t changed a bit; he still had worn his hair messy and he definitely still didn’t conform to society’s eating habits. However, his eyes looked healthier, happier even. Up until now, John couldn’t believe that this gorgeous being was once his before.

 

Reality seemed to crash onto John all at once. He shouldn’t be thinking about Sherlock tonight. They weren’t together anymore. It was all about Mary this time.

 

Sherlock, seemingly sensing the awkward atmosphere, cleared his throat and took out his small notebook and pen. “Good evening, our dear guests. What would you like to order for your wonderful night together?”

 

 _That was so fake_ , John snorted as he thought. He glanced at Mary, who was smiling at him as if she understood. She, then, picked up her menu and covered her face.

 

He paid attention to his own menu this time. However, he couldn’t concentrate. Each dish he saw had a connection to at least one of his dates with Sherlock. It was as if his Sherlock-smitten cells that died haunted his thinking process and, worse, his body. He _cannot_ be sporting a hard-on this early on a date. And, he definitely _should not_ be sporting one for his ex.

 

_Focus, John._

“A spaghetti Aglio E Olio, please.” He managed.

 

Sherlock looked at him with surprised amusement and turned to Mary. “And you, Madam?”

 

“A simple Italian spaghetti would do.”

 

“Before anything else, here is a fine taste of Donelan Family Walker Vine Hill Vineyard Syrah to set up the mood.” Sherlock got the bottle of wine that was set on their table earlier and poured two glasses. After that, he went off to the kitchen.

 

John sighed in relief.

 

“Did you know him?” John was taken aback by Mary’s sudden question. Sure, he didn’t have Sherlock in his presence now, but he was once again against the wall because of Mary’s question.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I did,” he admitted. Mary smirked at him. She leaned forward, imitating the motions of a criminal cornering a victim. Oh god. Because of all the hype about Sherlock this evening, he was comparing his date to a criminal.

 

Blame all things related to Sherlock.

 

“There’s something you aren’t telling me,” Mary insisted. John was practically sweating now.

 

He tried to pull the ‘okay-I-am-cool-with-this’ look. “There isn’t, really. We’re just old acquaintances.”

 

“Or, something else entirely.” Mary giggled. “I’ll borrow you from him just for tonight, alright? You’ve made so much effort for this date.”

 

“I was never his in the first place. And, I did everything today because of you.” He smiled at Mary affectionately, and took her hand in his. “You look dashing tonight, Ms. Morstan.”

 

“So do you, Mr. Watson, with that warm jumper. Makes me want to cozy up with you.” She leaned in a bit more until both of their faces were as close as they can be. John caught her lips with his, and kissed her gently. They were enjoying the snog when a rather whiny cough interrupted them.

 

“Your orders are here,” Sherlock announced, taking the dishes on his tray to the table. “An Italian spaghetti for our Madam,” he gave Mary her plate of spaghetti. “And, an Aglio Et Olio for our manly gentleman.” Then, finally, he gave John his plate. Sherlock bowed awkwardly and went off to attend to the kitchen once again. If anything, John and Mary would’ve thought he was running away from some life-threatening circumstance.

 

John and Mary peacefully ate their meal, with Mary joking a bit at John’s meal choice. She couldn’t kiss him now. He assured her he would brush his teeth before he could kiss her once again. She giggled at this and told him she loved snogging men with clean breaths, making John blush tremendously.

 

After their meal, Mary excused herself to go to the loo, leaving John behind to ponder on his next move. He was expecting to make love to Mary that night, finally making their relationship official. They had been going on dates for quite some time now, and he thought Mary was about ready to take the next step in their relationship. He reached out to his pockets.

 

Oh, god.

 

He didn’t have condoms.

 

If he were to give Mary a good time, he shouldn’t give her the probability of having STDs.  He really needed condoms. Maybe Mary would fancy a trip to Tesco’s before they go to her flat? Oh, she wouldn’t. He knew Mary knew they were to make love tonight and, knowing Mary, they would not delay. If he only could get condoms from someone willing to give it to him, he’d be rather thankful.

 

“Here you go, sir.”

 

John looked up. There, standing beside him, was Sherlock, with his hand on the table. When he removed his hand, John was surprised to see three condoms, with different colors, and a pack of breath mints.

 

“I-I thought they’d be effective.” Wait. Did Sherlock Holmes just _stutter_? “Lestrade had them, and he took a rather excessive amount when Mycroft came to the Yard. I thought they’d help, because your excellent choice of dinner will probably hinder you from getting any more sex and eliminate all chances with that woman.”

 

He looked at the condoms, and then at Sherlock. He was finding this rather incredulous. Of course, he wasn’t surprised that Sherlock knew. He was surprised of the fact that Sherlock decided to help him. For all he knew, he would even ruin his dates back then.  John shook his head to himself, and smiled at the other. Ex or not, John knew when to pay courtesy and respect to a person. “Thank you, Sherlock.”

 

There was a pretty awkward silence between the two of them. John didn’t want to say anything anymore because he knew he might say something he might regret. Finally, after a few moments, Sherlock stooped down a bit and put a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Congratulations, John. You two look happy together.”

 

There was a hint of sadness in Sherlock’s voice. John wanted to ask him what he was implying, but when he turned, Sherlock was gone and was, in fact, replaced by a walking Mary. Mary sat back down at the table, and told him she wanted to go. John got the bill from another waiter, and left the restaurant quickly. He didn’t want to think about how Sherlock’s voice sounded as if he regretted breaking up with him. He didn’t really want to think up of all the reasons why he loved the man in the first place, because he didn’t want to ruin this night for Mary.

 

 _This night is all about Mary_ , he reassured himself.

 

They walked toward her flat, hand in hand. When they reached her flat, Mary wrapped her arms around him. She kissed him rather fiercely. John responded with enthusiasm, pushing her front door open and lifting her up so that she could wrap her legs around him. He laid her down on her sofa, and slowly lifted her blouse. She raised her hands to aid him. When it was finally off, John looked at Mary and admired her. This beautiful thing was to be his tonight, he reminded himself.

 

“I don’t suppose you have a condom with you?” Mary joked.

 

“As a matter of fact, I do.” John smiled proudly. He took the pink condom out of his pocket, and stared at it. Sherlock had handed it to him, and told him they looked happy. But, he didn’t have a happy expression on his face. It was twisted and indifferent. It didn’t look right on that face of his.

 

And, his voice sounded sad. It sounded so lonely, so alone. He sounded as if he.. regretted saying those things. But, why? They had broken up already, and Sherlock said that he didn’t want a relationship such as theirs to interrupt in his work. John clenched his fist _. Don’t go to that moment right now, brain_.

 

John, for some reason, wanted to see Sherlock happy in the restaurant. He wanted him to smile just like when they were together. It would remind John that Sherlock had moved on, that probably someone else was seeing him in his post-coital state, that he was probably very adorable to that other man he was with. It would help him think he had made the right decision with Mary, and pursue this. But, he didn’t. He looked as broken as John had before when he gave him the condoms. He looked.. empty, and it hurt John to see him that way.

 

He just realized he was holding out a pink condom and looking at it solemnly. He looked like a sex-depraved lunatic.

 

He snapped back to his senses, and sighed. He looked at Mary, gave her a kiss, and sat on the floor. His back was turned to her. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

 

 “It’s from him, isn’t it?” She said softly. “That waiter.”

 

John couldn’t deny it anymore. “Yes. He’s my ex.”

 

He could hear a ruffle of cloth, before feeling small arms wrapping around him. Mary buried her face in the crook of his neck. “You were never ready to take me away, weren’t you, John?”

 

“I..” The smallness of Mary’s voice at the moment scared him. It was as if he made her vulnerable. “I’m so sorry, Mary.” He turned his face so that he was facing her. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

 

“Did you love me, at least for a bit?” He could feel her smile on his shoulder. He shifted and turned, facing Mary. She was still smiling affectionately, but there was a tinge of hurt in her eyes.

 

“I did, yeah. I loved you.” John reached out to her, and she took his hand. She massaged his hand gently, before giving a response.

 

“I knew even before you started to love me, John. I already knew.” She looked at John. “You were never going to move on. But, I still held hope inside me, thinking that maybe one day, you’ll learn to let go of him and love me. At least half of that was accomplished.” She chuckled softly.

 

John could not say anything because the guilt inside was slowly swallowing him. He remained still there, holding her hands tightly in his. He broke his Mary. This very beautiful being in front of him broke because of his selfish whims. It hurt him to think she had to experience something bad like this.

 

She patted his back with a smile on her face. But, that smile wasn’t her usual radiant smile. It was the smile of a woman who had to set her man free to make him happy. It was defeated, but hopeful at the same time. A small tinge of guilt sprang through John’s heart. “Go back to him. You need him, and he needs you. Whatever happened to you in the past shouldn’t hinder your happiness in the present. Now, go, John. Make him happy. Make yourself happy.”

 

John was torn between going and staying. But, he knew he didn’t usually have the chance to fix things again. He gave Mary a kiss to the forehead, whispered an ‘I love you’ to her, and ran back to Angelo’s. He wasn’t so sure of what he was doing, but he knew he had to try.

 

Once he reached Angelo’s once again, he was shocked to see Angelo and the other staff gathered in one corner of the restaurant. There, on the other side, was Sherlock, being held by one of the fancy men he saw inside the restaurant earlier. He had a knife to his neck. From the view outside, it looked like the man was shouting. John’s hand automatically flew to his other front pocket (the one without the condoms). He didn’t know he was to use his trustworthy friend once again. With that, he crept to the back door of the restaurant. There were perks with dating a Consulting Detective who had done favors to restaurant owners.

* * *

 

“Give me the money, Angelo!”

 

Oh, god. That line was so overused already. John groaned. Why couldn’t they have criminals who had more imagination?

 

Oops. He was thinking like Sherlock now.

 

Speaking of Sherlock, he was, just like any other time, annoying the hell out of the man handling him by sputtering his deductions. He wasn’t helping with his current condition. He smiled to himself. Some things don’t really change.

 

John crept up to the table directly behind the man. A girl staff member had seen him and gasped quietly. He signaled her to keep quiet, and she quickly changed her expression. Good. She was a great actress. John pointed his gun toward the man’s left foot, and shot.

 

The man let out a cry of pain and let Sherlock go. John took this opportunity to tackle the man. He was now straddling him, with the man’s face to the floor. He removed the man’s knife and held out a hand to Sherlock. Sherlock just looked at him questioningly.

 

“Handcuffs. Now.”

 

“John, I surely didn’t need your- “

 

“Shut the fuck up and give me the handcuffs.” Doing as he was told, Sherlock reached out into his coat pocket and gave John the handcuffs. John cuffed the man, who was still crying out of pain, and texted Greg. Good thing he stayed in contact with Greg even after breaking up with Sherlock.

 

Angelo approached the two of them. The other staff had gone to tidy the tables and the whole place itself.

 

“Thank you, John. We were sure Sherlock was going to die at that moment.” Angelo said in that sort of Italian-British accent of his.

 

Sherlock scowled. “I wasn’t going to die. I had it all under my contro- Ow!”

 

John had hit Sherlock’s kneecap. “Shut up, Sherlock. And, you’re welcome, Angelo. You can trust me to save this arse anytime.”

 

“So, free food?” Angelo offered. “I have more candles now, if you want.”

 

“No, thank you, Angelo. A next time, though, will be much appreciated.” John said as he saw the familiar police car outside the restaurant. Greg Lestrade entered the restaurant, and was surprised to see John and Sherlock with a criminal in their hands.

 

“This was what I always saw six months ago.” Greg shook his head. “You guys back together now?”

 

He was answered by an unwavering silence.

 

“Alright,” Greg, realizing he had made the atmosphere awkward, pointed to John. “Get off of him, John. I’ll take him now.”

 

John immediately got off of the man. Greg took him to his police car, and waved. After he left, John received a message from him telling he and Sherlock to go to the Yard at ten tomorrow.

 

Turning back to the scene in the restaurant, John heaved a sigh. “If you don’t need him anymore, I’ll be taking this man with me, Angelo.”

 

“No worries, no worries. Sherlock is yours.” Angelo quickly dismissed them with a big smirk on his face.

 

Walking side by side with Sherlock in London’s night streets was something customary back when they were still together. The silence was making John somewhat uncomfortable. But, knowing Sherlock, this was also a common thing between them.

 

“You loved her.” The rich, velvet voice that could only belong to Sherlock said. “Why did you leave her?”

 

John was surprised. Sherlock wasn’t usually the one to break the silence. He took a deep breath before answering Sherlock. “She made me realize there was someone I loved more than her.”

 

Sherlock seemed to ponder on this. “You still love me. Why?”

 

John stopped walking. “Can’t you deduce that?”

 

“No. Tell me, John.” It hurt John to see Sherlock so confused like that. How can this man not know why he loved him?

 

“You’re the best person I could ever fall in love with. You’re wonderful, brilliant, amazing in so many ways. How can I not love you still?” John cupped Sherlock’s face and caressed his cheekbones with his thumb gently.

 

“You can’t, John.” Sherlock took John’s hands in his and tugged it off of his face. “I’ll leave you again. I’ll forget you sometimes, and put The Work first before you. I might take off for months without you knowing again. You’ll be frustrated with me, and I won’t promise not to do those things again. We’ll have so many rows about it. I’ll keep making the same mistakes, John.”

 

“Leaving you was a mistake itself, Sherlock.” He sighed. “I wasn’t mature enough to understand that you were really like that. You told me so yourself, when we had our first date. I went into a relationship with you without fully understanding you. I loved you so much, but I was so selfish that I had to leave you to make the pain go away.”

 

“But, now, I guess I’m ready to take on this relationship once again. I want to make it work, Sherlock. I’ve blinded myself for six months, assuring myself that what I did was the best thing I could ever do. But, Mary told me it wasn’t. I was only truly happy with you, Sherlock. I don’t want to make the same mistake of leaving you once again. I love you so much it took much of my efforts to live my day-to-day life in the past months. Even in your absense, I only continued to love you more and more.”

 

Sherlock was quiet for a moment. Then, he strengthened his hold on John’s hands. “I still love you, John. I’m sorry for leaving you like that. It was important, and the case would’ve put your life at so much risk. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” There was pure remorse in Sherlock’s voice. John tiptoed just a bit to reach Sherlock’s lips.

 

The kiss was gentle, honest but accepting. It was a kiss of forgiveness, and a kiss of promise. They were to make some mistakes again, but they knew now that they had each other to survive through those mistakes.

 

Breathless, Sherlock leaned in to whisper to John’s ear. “You taste like oil and garlic.”

 

“Did that appall you? I might not give you a good shag tonight if you want me to scrub my mouth clean.” John kissed Sherlock’s neck lovingly.

 

“Oh, don’t worry yourself over your breath. I gave you breath mints and condoms, after all.” Sherlock winked at him. “I wouldn’t ever oppose a shag from you, John Watson.”

 

“Good. Let’s go home.” Hand in hand, they went back to Sherlock’s (and will now be John’s, too” flat.

 


End file.
